


She Who Fights Monsters

by madders10



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Gen, High Fantasy, Kingdoms, Politics, she who fights monsters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madders10/pseuds/madders10
Summary: Mars did not want to rule a kingdom, but really, fate has a funny way of blatantly ignoring the wishes of those involved. So she'll endure it; if they want a queen who exactly is she to deny  them?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my story! Special thanks to LyricBoleyn and Ash for being real pals and putting up with me rambling about this story. Updates will be Wednesdays! Enjoy!

The news of King Warthen the Brave’s death did not spread past the mountains that encased the tiny kingdom of Dragon Hatch.

The funeral was attended by the entire kingdom. The citizens crowded into the Great Hall, filling it to the brim and flooding out onto the streets. People pushed through the crowd to see a glimpse of the fallen monarch’s sword and remaining armor. It was scorched in places, and dented heavily, almost past the point of recognition. The insignia of the ruler of Dragon Hatch, a fierce dragon painted on the breastplate, was chipped and scratched off in many places. Many lit candles and left offerings of silks and dolls to help appease the Goddesses as the departed soul travelled to the afterlife. The weeping of subjects was heard long into that winter night.

Meanwhile, in an otherwise empty tavern, one of the former advisors to King Warthen sat in the cold cellar, with a hooded figure crouched over a map.

“I must be on my way, my time draws to an end here. I must set out for the Hatching Lands with the others.” The advisor whispered, standing from the position she had been in next to the only other life in the room. “I trust that you will do as I have asked?”

“It ain’t that hard to deliver some mail, ma’am,” the hooded man replied. “I don’t see the point in not waiting ‘til spring though, I admit.”

“It is imperative you deliver them now. This Kingdom must have it’s ruler.”

“I’d reckon you’d do just fine as ruler, ma’am.”

The advisor shook her head and smiled without humor. “It is better this way, Lornis. The people have their customs.”

A silence fell on the two, and the candle that produced light to read the map by was dimmed by the light emitted from the opening eyes of Serian the Dragonkin.

“I’m not going to see you again, am I?” Lornis broke the silence.

“No, my boy,” Serian patted the hooded head of the boy she’s seen grow from an infant into a man. “I need to go carry out my duty to my race. Go find the hatchlings, I beg you. You will not fail me.”

“‘Course not.”

Word of the former King’s passing did not reach the other nations in the area. The way was treacherous in fair weather, so it’s not a surprise none dared to cross the Wyven Mountains in the middle of winter. The gates remained firmly shut, though a smaller wooden door in the wall was opened and a single rider faced the blowing snow. He was carrying four letters in a satchel, on orders of the last official that had remained in the city, his life-long friend and teacher.

The horse galloped into the night and disappeared.

Somewhere in the mountains to the East a dragon slept in its cave, the youthful head of the century old Warthen resting near the entrance. The face was frozen in a look of sheer rage, and the eyes remained open, pupils narrow and irises glowing faintly. The Dragonkin King’s soul howled in the wind that resounded in the cave, seemingly cursing the beast responsible for ending his unaging life.

In a small cabin on the plains, where the mountains were merely the backdrop to the long-stretching grasslands, there lived an old knight and the daughter he had reared from her infant days fourteen years back. A fire crackled under a pot that was to contain potatoes that a tawny haired girl with glowing jade eyes was cutting in between reading pages of her book on the history of a far off nation.

“Marsie, are you almost finished in there?” The hard voice of her father, Archtus, came from the next room over.

Marulo, looking down at the half finished cutting job she was supposed to have already completed, quickly pushed them into the pot and poured in the water from the well. “Yes, father.”

“Then come here, would you?”

Mars obeyed, wiping her hands on her somewhat dirty shirt and trousers. “What is it?”

“I just needed some extra light. It’s so dark these winter nights.” Archtus was polishing his weaponry, a common pastime of his. The sword he ran the rag over currently reflected the brilliant light of the candle and the now added light of his daughter’s eyes, bouncing over the spear and shield leaning up against the bed against the wall. Mars sat on the other bed towards the middle of the room.

“Why can’t you just bring it into the other room, Father? The fire’s brighter than I am.”

“And leave the comfort of my bed? Never.” The joke did not seem to match his serious voice, but Mars snickered anyway, used to her father’s humor, and not entirely willing to deprive him of his comfort and make him move.

To entertain herself, the fourteen year old grabbed an unpolished dagger from Archtus’s pile next to him and tossed it into the air, catching the handle, and repeating. She’d grown up handling these weapons. Her father had insisted on her learning to use each spectacularly, despite Mars’s insistence that she would never have a need to know, as she was only going to inherit the small farm, and nobody ever robbed this place that was so far from the other kingdoms to the south. Books were far more interesting anyway, and she had always dreamt of owning her own library, not her own armory. Still, Archtus had put his foot down, and Mars knew better than to cross her father when he was set on an idea, so learn she did.

One polishing (and several knives being thrown too high, getting stuck in the rafters leading to a stern look from her father) later and the two found themselves eating a quiet meal of potatoes and dried meat. Thankfully for Mars, Archtus decided not to bring up the half cut potatoes. Outside, the wind howled louder. The blizzard was growing worse. Mars vaguely wondered if this weather was the reason they never had livestock on their little farm, relying more on hunting and the occasional trader on their way through the mountains. Sometimes, if she was lucky, the merchant would be selling books as well.

That was only in the springtime, though, not in the horrible storms that plagued the winters. Which was why the knock on the door made both occupants of the cabin leap to their feet. Mars stepped to the back of the room, where the fire would dim the light from her eyes, which she had always thought a bother. Her eyes glowed, so what? All it meant was that she could read later into the night. But this was another thing that Archtus insisted on, and so she retreated.

Her father opened the door only a crack. Barely enough for the gloved hand of whoever was there to reach a letter through. Archtus took it and thanked the messenger, before reclosing the door and sitting to read the contents of the letter. Mars finished her meal and gathered the dishes that needed cleaning, keeping an eye on her father and where he placed the letter. Before he retired to bed he turned to Mars.

“We’re going into the mountains tomorrow. Pack light. You’ll have plenty where we’ll be staying.”

Mars almost dropped the dish she was wiping. Her father never went into the mountains alone, much less with her. Something must be wrong. Very wrong. She wanted to strangle what it was out of her poor father, but let him retreat into the other room to sleep. Quietly, after finishing her chores for the evening, she took the letter and read:

_To Sir Archtus, former knight of the kingdom of Hestinlend, kingdom of Man, to the West:_

_The time has come for your daughter to inherit the crown. King Warthen the Brave has fallen, the Emerald Dragonkin’s Hatchling is next in line for the throne. I have sent word to the Hatchlings of the Ruby, Obsidian, and Turquoise Dragonkin. They will meet you at the castle and give her the task she is to undertake, and if all goes to plan, they shall be her advisors in the age to come._

_Come with haste, Old Man. Should you fail to arrive within the fortnight, The Hatchling will be deemed ineligible, and as a Dragonkin outside the city walls past childhood is forbidden due to the risks it implies, she will be exterminated as the Dragon that her blood is descended from._

_Forgive me, my friend. It is not my wish but it is what is demanded of us. I hope you can understand._

_Much hope for the future,_

_Serian, Diamond Dragonkin, advisor to the former King Warthen the Brave._

_Long stand ancient Dragon Hatch._

Dragonkin? What in the pits of the Under-Goddess was a Dragonkin? Who was Serian? Mars had to sit down, thoughts swirling in her head like the blizzard outside. The fire was dying, leaving the room bathed in the green light of her eyes. She closed them tightly. The light was not helping and she had to sort her thoughts.

Whoever wrote the letter clearly knew her father. He did not talk about his life as a knight often, but she knew the kingdom was to the West, and was populated by humans instead of the many other magical races, so that much was correct at least. Mars was clearly whatever a Dragonkin was according to this Serian. Clearly it was different than- her mind wailed and she felt tears in her eyes- human.

Her eyes glowed. She had never matured as a human would have.

She wasn’t human.

Marulo was not a human like her father. Mars was not a human.

Mars wept silently, but continued to puzzle over the letter with her eyes sealed shut.

She was next in line for the throne. What throne? Mars had never heard of this before. Was there a kingdom nearby even? That must be where the merchants go to when they pass through. That made sense and she turned her mind to other matters.

Mars couldn’t rule a kingdom. She couldn’t even finish preparing dinner on time, for the Goddess’s sake! Becoming Queen was out of the question. It was not going to happen.

The thought occurred that that must have been the same thing that Father thought. He was taking her the kingdom to explain that Mars, little Marsie, daughter of Archtus, not Hatchling of some Dragonkin or whatever, was not to become a monarch and that someone else will have to suffice.

That was the only thing that would make sense to Mars’s young mind, and she remained in that room late into the night imagining the conversation Archtus would have with the people of the kingdom she was not going to rule.

Archtus for his part was glad that his daughter remained in the main room for so long. It would not have been right for the girl to see her father weeping and cursing the Goddesses. He could not prevent what was to come, and he knew this letter, this scrap of useless parchment, had sealed his poor Marsie’s fate.

He must set out with her tomorrow to that cursed place he’d sworn never to return to and offer up his child as a sacrifice to its leechlike crown.

He prayed she would forgive him someday in her never ending life. It wouldn’t surprise him if she didn’t.

Breakfast was at dawn the next morning. Mars was in higher spirits than the previous night, having managed to convince herself that this whole ruling business was ridiculous and silly and not going to happen. She wanted to tell her father this, but feared that she would worsen his already sullen mood. Mars felt like she was eating stone, despite her optimism. Hoping to lighten her father’s mood, she said, “Well, at least that blizzard blew itself out. We don’t have to walk in that mess.”

“I suppose not.” Archtus replied curtly. Mars deflated. He normally would’ve joined in her insulting of the weather, or at least joked about something related to it. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

She did not pack much. A spare set of clothes, a few books, and the spear her father made her take with. Mars was most proficient with it, and had engraved an ivy vine into the tip. It was the only time Father had ever allowed her to touch one of his remnants from his knighthood, and it meant a lot to her. All of this was loaded onto the sole horse they owned, which Archtus would ride. Mars insisted Archtus rode instead of her. He was older than he used to be, another reason Mars added to the list of excuses not to become queen she had made.

Travelling through the mountains was quiet and uneventful. Neither of the travellers spoke, in part due to Mars’s wonder at the scenery of the mountains. She had never really left the farm, and seeing what she had always thought to be a part of the horizon up close was awe inspiring. The path was clear, despite the snow, and they reached the outer gates of the kingdom by late evening.

A guard was posted by the main entrance to the gate, sleeping in a chair. Mars was about to approach him, but was stopped by Archtus, gesturing instead to the wooden door to the side, out of the way of the main road. Giving her father a confused look but trusting him, she approached to door and knocked firmly.

“Who’s there? Name yourself.” A voice called from inside.

“Sir Archtus of Hestinlend, bringing Marulo on orders of Serian.” Archtus called back, Mars growing indignant at him introducing her instead of letting her do it for herself, but held her tongue. There was a pause, a brief sound of running in armor on the other side, and then coming back to the door which opened quietly.

“Come in.”

Archtus dismounted and tied the horse outside the door and entered into the city, Mars following closely behind. The door was shut behind them by a man about half Archtus’s age by Mars’s estimate. He was dirtier than she expected of someone who was presumably a city dweller. Though judging by the bow and arrows strapped to his back, and furs piled around the door, he must go into the forest often.

The man was Lornis, who last time Archtus had seen him was nothing more than a toddler. The two exchanged brief greetings before the forestman looked to Mars.

“You must be the future queen, then. Good to meet you, youngun. My name’s Lornis.”

“My name is Mars. And I’m fourteen.” the dragonkin smiled a bit tersely. Lornis laughed.

“Spirited, for sure!” He punched Archtus lightly in the shoulder. “You did well raising her.”

Mars saw her father’s mouth twitch upwards for a moment. “She was better behaved than you ever were.”

“Never.”

The conversation continued as the three walked through the back alleys of the city, towards the castle. Mars was enraptured by the new surroundings. The smells, the sounds in the distance, the general feeling of industry all enchanted her. Buildings upon buildings, an endless maze of streets. It was almost enough to make her want to stay forever.

Almost.

At the back of the castle, which faced towards the east, and was situated on the far west of the city, so as to look over the entire kingdom, was a secret exit used for emergencies. It was through this doorway Lornis lead the two guests. They walked along the torchlit corridor as Lornis explained the situation more.

“You’re the last to arrive, actually, youngun. Other three arrived last night, right after I’d delivered the message. They were from the big kingdoms, ones with court Magicians and such. Transport magic, stuff folk like me ain’t seen no need for. And one was already in the city,” Mars grunted in acknowledgement. At no sign of her saying anything in return, he continued. “The Ruby Dragonkin is Yadreich, the Tourquoise one is En,” Mars recognized that name. It was the Goddess of Trade and Business’s name. “And the last one, the Obsidian one, is Lapin. They’re all about,” he paused, considering, “oh, about my age. None so spritely as you, youngun.”

“I see,” Mars said quietly, somewhat dejected. She’d been hoping for some allies on her side of ‘I-can’t-possibly-rule’ battle, and it seemed to her younger people would be more willing to listen to her plight. Damn it all to the pits.

At long last they arrived at a more open space, perhaps an old entrance hall that had been abandoned in favor of a new one. It was still kept in workable condition and was far grander than anything Mars had seen before, but that was not comforting the sinking feeling that was beginning to take root in her soul.

Three figures were in the area. One, a woman, was sitting at a table, scribbling in a scroll next to an open book. Mars expected a candle, but in place of one a soft blue light shone on the parchment, bright as a lantern. A man dressed in armor, with an unshaven face, and darker skin, seemingly from the South, though Mars had never seen a being from those lands before. His red light blended with the blue, creating a lovely shade of purple. The last figure immediately turned to face the trio at the entrance. He was a pale man, and as near to perfection as Mars dared to assume. His eyes glowed a shade of deep purple, and he wore less armor than the other man, but still wore some. Mars had never seen an elf before, but he certainly seemed to encompass the race she’d read about. Eyes narrowed, he spoke with a heavy foreign accent, “You are Marulo then?”

“She is.” Archtus spoke for her, placing himself between his daughter and the strangers.

“I see. I am Lapin,” Lapin gestured behind him. “I am sure Lonis has told you our names, but these are En and Yadreich.” Mars gulped as he turned to face her full on. “It is a pleasure to meet the future queen at last.”

“I- I’m sorry, you’ve misunderstood,” she stammered, suddenly losing all her fighting spirit as the other Dragonkin focused on her. Yadreich moved forward towards her, while En remained seated, but turned to face the young girl. “I can’t-- I mean, I couldn’t, um,” Mars looked desperately at her father. When no help came from him, she continued, “I really can’t become queen. Ever. I wouldn’t be any good at it, and Father is aging, and I-I don’t want to rule a kingdom, really--” Her words are cut off abruptly as she was slammed against a nearby pillar by a snarling Yadreich. Lornis immediately held back an outraged Archtus, and Lapin backed up to lean on a wall.

“You’re speakin’ nothin’ but garbage. Don’t waste our time.” Yadreich growled. Mars gasped for breath that had been forced out of her, feeling her ire rise.

“It’s not garbage!” She yelled, tears pricking her eyes. “I don’t want to rule! I wish to remain on my farm!”

“Your ancestor did not die producing you for you to go live in the country.”

“The only ancestor I have that matters,” snapped Mars. “Is Archtus, my father.” This caused Yadreich’s eyes to flare up in what could only be rage.

“You disgrace our heritage.”

“I have none shared with you!”

While the two bickered, En stood and walked towards a torn-looking Archtus. “Thank you for delivering your charge to us. You must leave now.”

“What?” He looked to her sharply. Archtus couldn’t abandon her, not here, not with the one who had just attacked her!

“Please, you must.” En started to edge him to the hall they had come from. “Your daughter will never accept her role should you stay.”

Archtus did not move. En sighed and looked to Lornis.

“I’m sorry, friend.” Lornis took Archtus by the arm and began dragging him, causing the old knight to cry out in pain and anger.

“Father!” Mars broke away from her argument with Yadreich, and now the tears that had brimmed in her eyes began to drip down her face.

“Marsie, be safe! I love you, daughter, be brave!” Archtus shouted, struggling with little avail against his forelorn assailant.

“No, don’t make him leave! Stop it! Please!” She was grabbed by Yadreich as she tried to run back to her father. The scene passed by quickly, as Lornis was stronger than the old man and another guard that had come to assist aided him, and soon they had left Mars’s field of vision.

“Father, I’ll come back! Wait for me!” Was the last thing she managed to scream before breaking down into sobbing, still held fast by the Ruby Dragonkin.

Lapin for his part had been watching this pass indifferently. Now, however, his lips twitched upwards into a bemused smirk. He walked over to the sobbing mess of a girl and patted her head softly, like one would a pet.

“You wish to be with your father again, yes?” He purred, to which Mars said nothing but raised her head to look at him. “There is a way for you to do so.” En quickly walked back to her work, avoiding looking at Lapin, so as to hide her regretful expression.

“Wh-- What is it?” Mars sniffled pitifully. Yadreich’s grasp had shifted to more of a comforting hand resting on her back, as he looked to the older Dragonkin in confusion.

“All you must do is not complete the task at the crowning ceremony.” Lapin’s face broke from the smirk into a large, inviting grin. “You can fail the ceremony and never have to think of ruling again.” Yadreich opened his mouth in confusion but was silenced by a look from Lapin that did not match the rest of his expression.

“Really?” Mars’s eyes widened and she wiped the tears from them. “I can go back to the farm?”

“Certainly.”

Mars could've flown. She never felt such relief in her life. Such was it that she missed the glare En sent Lapin, which he returned with a once more stony face.

She stood and wiped the remaining tears off her cheeks. “Alright. I’m fine now.” Yadreich also straightened up, and seemed to want to apologize, but thought better when he saw the look En was giving him. He really didn’t want to risk her wrath by saying something wrong to the future queen. Lapin opened his mouth to say something else to Mars, but was cut off by En rushing over to Mars. Yadreich was almost proud she managed not to slap the man. “What do you like to do, dear?”

“I read.”

“I’ll show you to the library then. You could drown in all the books.”

Mars seemed somewhat unwilling to follow the woman who had made her father leave tangentially, but she sternly reminded herself that she would not be staying, so what could be wrong with enjoying some new literature? This was a once in a lifetime chance for her.

En led the way through the mostly empty halls of the castle. A few soldiers milled about in the rooms, but not nearly enough to be all of them. Tapestries with various figures embroidered on them lined the halls-- “Imported from the elvish crafters in L’Bellaneux,” En said with a twinge of pride. Mars recognized some of the figures as the Goddesses and some folk heros. The others were unknown to her. They were assumed to be rulers before Mars came into the castle. It made the girl feel self conscious. She hoped they weren’t judging her from the afterlife for not intending to be queen.

The Library was more than she imagined. These many books could keep her busy for centuries-- she did have that long, she figured-- and they were more fine than any of the books she had ever bought for herself. She didn’t know where to begin, and the shelves seemed to shield her from the oppressive feeling that lingered in her mind.

Running a hand along the spines of the books, she made a mental checklist of what she wanted to read. First on the list was a book on her newfound race, the Dragonkin. She had never heard of them before now, and that was a slightly worrying fact. Maybe a library of this size would have something that could help her figure out a way to cope as a Dragonkin while still remaining in her home.

Luckily for Mars, books on the Dragonkin were in no short supply in this place. Finding one had been a relatively easy task, and she sat down to read in front of a fireless fireplace. Dragonkin: Origins and Influence seemed like a boring read, but it was the most informational one she could find. It explained, in the first chapter:

_The Dragonkin are a race made, not born. The First Generation from a time long forgotten, consisting of forty different Dragonkin, were created as a hybrid species of Dragons and a group of different races. Mainly humans stepped forward, but a sizeable group of elves, and a smaller group of halflings and dwarves also gave themselves to the cause._

_The sorcerer who fused them together had attempted to make the perfect creation; an immortal being with high intelligence and durability enough to become the perfect ruler and commander. But the creation was flawed. While it looked to be a success at first, the creatures’ internal structure resembled a dragon’s too much. The bones were made of the material of scale and much harder to break, as planned, but the reproduction system was entirely different and several of the organs were a mix of dragon origin and human tissue._

_The reproduction of dragons involves an egg with a hard shell, which is incubated inside the dragon. When the dragon hatches, the shell is shattered and the pieces are ground into a powder and the dragon is born. This process is done on a cycle of a century and requires a certain set of circumstances to occur. No sire is necessary, but the instinct to pass on their lineage will eventually become unbearable for both dragons and Dragonkin. This should not have been an issue, but the “womb” is not of the harder, reinforced material that Dragons have. The hatching of the egg will tear apart the innards of the Dragonkin, resulting in death._

_This inevitable downfall has discouraged kingdoms from adopting them as leaders, all save for the miniscule mountain kingdom of Dragon Hatch, a former community doomed seemingly to the endless assault by the wild dragons that infested the surrounding area. Desperation made the people of this place willing to attempt innovation and adopted the Dragonkin ruler._

_Thus it was arranged that the governing classes should be divided in half. A monarch and the nineteen advisors would reign for an age, and when the death of the royal occurred, the other twenty will come to power. At this time the court of the fallen King or Queen will retreat to a location known as the Hatching Lands. There they will spend their days, living in peace for their last years as an egg is incubated in them. The hatching will occur and the Hatchlings shall be placed with keepers to be raised until the next governing switch occurs._

The chapter continued for a while on the previous rulers and the basically non-existent diplomacy of the kingdom, but Mars had closed the book. She felt mentally beaten by the world at large and just wanted some rest. Magical beings, fated dooms, an irresistible instinct to kill herself, in layman's terms, it was all too much.

En returned to the library late in the evening, after discussing heatedly the implications of Lapin’s tactics, before realizing that she was fighting a losing battle that would only lead to more trouble for the poor hatchling should she interfere, to find Mars curled up, asleep on the floor. The woman fetched a blanket and wrapped it around the future queen as best she could. A pause, and then she exited, putting herself back to work on some account she remembered not.

Paperwork was monotonous. It was a comfortable chore that distracted her from her nagging conscience.


	2. Chapter 2

Mars woke to a sore back and the sun shining through a window, blinding her. Groaning, she sat up and tried to remember what she was doing before she fell asleep. The memories from last night struck her like an arrow. Another groan broke through her throat. It wasn’t a dream or a fever vision. Damn. Nothing like reality to destroy your dreams.

She stood and folded the blanket as neatly as she could, leaving it on a chair with the book she had read. With one last look at the tempting shelves of books, Mars exited the library to go in search of someone who could tell her what she should be doing at this point.

That was a task that turned out harder than anticipated. If she saw one more corridor lit with candles leading to a closed door, something was going to die.

After a long while of making her way through the castle without getting anywhere, and exhausting Mars’s knowledge of curses in Common-tongue and bits of Elvish, Mars was pounced upon by a furry blur. A flurry of licks and a wagging tail assaulted her vision and she found herself pushed against a wall and laughing.

“Down, Darhus!”

Mars looked up at the sharp voice, which belonged to Lornis. The man stood above her, petting the dog who had abandoned her and run back to him. He had an expression that shifted from amusement to awkwardness that seemed intertwined with sympathy.

“Sorry ‘bout that, youngun.” Lornis scratched Darhus’s ears. “He’s nothin’ but bark.”

“It’s fine.” Mars replied, eyeing him warily. “Dogs aren’t usually malicious.”

From the resigned look that appeared on his face, the implication of that statement hadn’t been lost on Lornis. Still, he continued. “I’ve got your bag an’ spear in my quarters down the way. Lapin said you wouldn’t need ‘em, but I thought you’d like to have ‘em anyway.”

Lornis extended a hesitant hand to help Mars up, which she took after a brief moment of thought. “Thanks.”

“Ain’t nothin’.”

Lornis led them through the maze of halls (a feat Mars bitterly compared to a gift of the goddesses) and entered one of the various wooden doors, to what seemed to be a makeshift apartment of sorts. There was a small bed with somewhat tattered sheets, a rickety looking desk and chair, and a map of the surrounding area pinned to the wall. A candle stood on the desk, but wasn’t lit. Lornis made to go light it, but decided Mars’s eyes provided enough to get the bag and spear that rested on the bed.

Once Mars was reunited with her spear and her bag was safely on her shoulder, Lornis gave her specific directions to where she would find En, who would hopefully know what Mars should be doing.

En didn’t look up from the paperwork she was working through when Mars asked. “Hm, go find Yadreich by the barracks. I think he was going to work with you.”

“Why? I don’t need--”

“You will need some practice before your ceremony, Mars. Believe me.”

“I’d be more willing to,” Mars said, slowly, considering how to phrase the next words, “if you would at least tell me what the ceremony entails. I haven’t yet been told, you see.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Mars responded angrily. “What is so bad about me knowing what I’m facing?”

“It’s tradition to keep the future successor in the dark about the ceremony.”

“Tradition,” the younger spat back, “can be ignored.”

En’s face grew conflicted. Lapin would not be pleased if she told, nor would Yadreich, who valued the improvising the ceremony required. Would it really be so bad to give her a hint? She was hit immediately with the faces of her old family, the friendly dwarves who told her never to tell a lie, ‘twas bad for business. She finds her face buried in her hands and as she opens her mouth--

“Your crowning ceremony isn’t until two days from now. No more will be said of it.” Lapin interrupted, leaning against the doorway. Mars whipped around to look at him, and Lapin stared unwaveringly at En. She matched his gaze as long as she could, before sighing, cueing Lapin to be on his way with another victory under his belt.

“Of course. He’s right, Mars.”

Mars thanked her unhappily, walked out, then walked back in and got directions to the barracks.

Despite the hiccups, Mars did end up getting to the barracks. Yadreich was not a hard man to find either, what with his red eyes and generally imposing aura.

“Took you long enough to find your way here, brat.” He growled, looking disdainfully at her lack of armor. “Don’t you have something better to wear in combat?”

“Oh, right,” Mars snapped back. “From all that heavily armored farm work I did before I came here.” She was met with a sharp jab in the shoulder before being instructed to take her spear and follow him to the training yard. As Mars walked she tossed the spear in her hands, getting used to the familiar grip once more. A pang of sadness hit her as she remembered her father helping her hold it the first time. She swore she would return soon and never leave home again.

In the yard, Yadreich stood at one end of the yard and Mars at the other. “Do your worst, brat.” Mars hesitated to move. She had never spared with anyone except her--

“Perhaps your father didn’t train you well.”

Yadreich barely had spoke the words before Mars was charging him, brandishing the spear furiously. However, he merely stepped to the side quickly, and before Mars knew it she was on her back.

“You’re going to need to be quicker than that. Up, charge again.”

Mars grit her teeth angrily and did so, only to be knocked down once more. This continued unbroken for a time. On her most recent knockdown however, she failed to hear Yadreich’s snide remark, causing her to look up at him.

Yadreich was staring at a group of soldiers coming in through a door to the West, heading along a path towards another door at the North side of the enclosed yard. A few of the soldiers had removed their shirts and were heading to what Mars assumed to be a bathing area. Yadreich still hadn’t responded to Mars, and she stood while coughing to draw his attention.

“Wha-- Oh, right.”

“Oh, so I’m still here then,” Mars quipped. “I’d begun to think I’d disappeared.”

“Shut up and attack me.”

At the end of the day, Mars had not gotten any closer to beating Yadreich, and was frustrated beyond belief. This only cemented the idea that she was not the right choice for ruler of Dragon Hatch. She got Lornis to show her to what was her room and collapsed on the bed.

Yadreich, for his part, reported immediately to Lapin that the new queen showed plenty of promise. “Who knows,” he said with a shrug. “She may not die immediately.”

“I should hope not,” chuckled Lapin, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. “Otherwise I would have worked so hard for nothing.”

“You’ll remember I was the one having to dodge her spear out there.”

“Yes, and I was using my mind, something you cannot do effectively.”

Yadreich excused himself by knocking over a bookshelf in lieu of being more disrespectful to his higher-up than he had already been. He was an army man at heart, insufferable pricks like Lapin wouldn’t change that.

En, for her part, stopped by Mars’s room later that night with a tray of soup and bread with some dried meat. “You certainly must’ve worked up an appetite today.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Mars ate the meal sullenly. A deafening silence filled the room, and En felt torn between fleeing from the future queen and hugging the poor dear. “I heard that you did well today with Yadreich.”

“I didn’t even land a solid blow on him.”

En shrugged. “Not many have been able to.”

The awkward silence returned. Desperate to fill it with something other than her guilt, En said, “I remember meeting you once before. You wouldn’t remember, of course, you were such a young child then. No more than a year.”

“Really?” Mars looked up, genuinely interested for the first time that night, and En breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes,” she hummed. “Oh, I must have been twenty or so. My caravan didn’t usually come to Dragon Hatch, but we wanted to pay our respects to you and your father.”

“But I was one.”

“Ah, we had apparently missed that detail. We were coming to give books to a toddler!” En laughed, fondly remembering the expression on the caravan leader that year’s face. Mars laughed with her, slightly quieter. “You were such a quiet thing, too. A young little girl who just took everything around her in.”

“I suppose I got louder as I grew.”

“I suppose so.”

The two woman gazed around the room, searching for a topic to discuss so as to quell the crushing silence.

There was nothing to be found for conversation, and so Mars hurried to finish the soup and gave it back to En to take away. Suddenly she felt horribly tired and wasn’t sure if she could ever recover. Even holding down her dinner was getting difficult, and she laid down shakily. It felt like she was being swallowed.

Sleep was a blessing when it came to the girl.


End file.
